Keep Moving Forward: Spinster Edition

I can go ahead and say that I’m happy being single and it’s all magic and freedom, and usually it is, but sometimes I really kick my own ass for it.

Why doesn’t anyone like me? (Less of a whine and more of a ‘What the hell boys?! I’m practically a bro with boobs.” You think they would enjoy that.)

This is the question that crinkles my forehead a lot and I get a lot of replies to it when I bring this question up for discussion with my friends. Actually, I don’t ask that question, I generally say something like “I don’t meet anyone new ever, soooo unless the one non-family member guy I know steps it up, I’m going to die alone in my parents house.” (And I’ve known this person for a few years, so I’m going to assume he’s not interested.)

The word “vibe” is put out there a reasonable amount in response to this.

“You are just putting out the vibe that you aren’t interested.”

“You are just putting out the vibe that you aren’t looking.”

“You are just putting out the vibe that you can’t be bothered.”

My Nonna once told me that I can’t be bothered in the sense that I don’t want another person bothering me and messing up the quiet life that I have, not that I can’t be bothered to even look for said person.

Crying while watching Austenland for the seventh time. Alone. Okay, I don’t cry the ENTIRE movie, it’s a romantic comedy, and it’s pretty much impossible to when Jennifer Coolidge is hilarious.

I don’t even know where I would meet someone; online dating isn’t for me, striking up a conversation with a hot stranger in the middle of the grocery store isn’t for me (could you imagine? “Oh hey…nice melons. Heh heh heh.” That’s me, because in this scenario I’m a cheesy villainesque person from an 80s movie with a popped collar and giant sunglasses I lower in order to say said cheesy line.) and clearly just talking to any man, boy, or regular person I meet doesn’t work.

I actually don’t even know what I would do with a boyfriend once I got one. I would hope it would mostly involve watching Doctor Who while he feeds me pizza…but I think that is less a boyfriend and more a cabana boy? Whatever.

So here’s an ode to myself on a day where I feel like balls for being a lonely old spinster with no prospects and fear that my boobs will sag before anyone gets to see them:

You are beautiful, no matter what they say. Words can’t bring you down. Oh wait…that’s Christina Aguilera’s ode…hold on….

You are magical. You are a unicorn among women and there is no fault in that just because you feel like you are the only one of your kind left. There is nothing you can’t do and no one, even yourself, can make you feel less than just because you haven’t found that person who fills your soul up and makes you want to be a better version of yourself. That person who thinks you look pretty even when you look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards. That other person who makes you laugh more than makes you cry. That other person who acknowledges your faults and mistakes and doesn’t make you feel like a complete asshole for them. That other person who sees you being a dick and calls you on it and you don’t want to punch them in the face for doing so.

You don’t need another half, you are a whole person on your own. And that’s part of what makes you special. It’s worth the wait, just make the wait a grand adventure and there will never be a regret.

Stop crying you sissy.

There is only one you, and there will never be another. You are unique in the universe. (And yes, that is yet another Doctor Who quote.)